Usze Gets Scrooged
by WarlordFil
Summary: Usze 'Taham wants to skip the holiday season entirely until too many festive Human films take their toll and force him to face the possible repercussions of his actions.  Spoilers for "Cross Blades" and "Mercenary Hearts".


**Usze Gets Scrooged**

Human holidays. Usze 'Taham hated them.

He could respect Heroes Day—the day when both Humanity and Sangheili honoured the bravery of those who had died in the battle against the False Prophets, including the countless millions of Sangheili who had died in vain following the San 'Shyuum's bidding. He could tolerate Thanksgiving, if only due to a weakness for good food. But Usze would never learn to put up with the stupid holidays: stepping on concealed eggs on Easter, publicly admitting to shameful emotions like fear on Halloween, being dared to eat a huge handful of spicy cinnamon hearts on Valentine's Day….

Or enduring countless verses of novelty songs sung by a plush prey-animal.

Somewhere out in the lounge, Ricky the Carolling Reindeer was in full swing, and Usze could guess who was responsible.

N'tho 'Sraom loved that damned thing and couldn't resist the urge to make Ricky sing every time he passed by the main table. N'tho had attempted to soothe Usze's hatred of the toy by dutifully uploading it to play over a hundred different songs instead of the same one over and over. Unfortunately, the result was that Nitro, wanting to learn all the songs, just ended up playing Ricky even more often and irritating Usze further. If Usze had to hear that damned deer's squeaky little voice _one more time_…

Christmas. Usze hated it. He had no idea what humans wanted for Christmas, and why should he be giving them gifts anyway? They should either be strong enough to meet their own needs or weak enough to go do their whimpering somewhere far away from a cranky Sangheili. He didn't know how to react when they insisted on giving him ridiculous human trinkets in hopes of gaining…what? Approval? Truce? Who knew?

He had no use for their songs, at least the ones that weren't battle anthems. He distrusted their bizarre religions. He was confused by their love of imaginary things like Santa and flying reindeer and talking snowmen. He was completely creeped out by the notion of possibly getting kissed by Mbeki or Cyr under the mistletoe.

And absolutely worst of all was his partner N'tho's ridiculous enthusiasm for anything and everything Christmas. Ever since that stupid tree had gone up in the lounge, N'tho had become a disgrace to his species and a bona fide Yuletide fool. The more N'tho threw himself into the human celebrations of the season, the more often Usze spent curled up in their room sulking or stalking through the base growling and snarling to himself, until now most of the Human staff scattered when they saw him coming, and even Piro and Kya's hatchlings started to pip and hide behind their parents when he entered the room. Usze had little hope the young Sangheili would grow backbones in the years to come—Piro had mentored N'tho and look how well _that _had turned out.

Out in the lounge, Ricky began reciting a poem that was loud enough to be audible through the closed door of Usze and N'tho's room.

Usze groaned. Did it never end?

_And Ma in her kerchief and I in my cap,_

_ Had just settled down for a long winter's nap…_

Actually, as ideas went, that one wasn't half bad. Usze plopped down in his bed, pulled the covers up to his mandibles, and pulled Nitro's pillow over his head to ward off the sound of Ricky Reindeer.

If he was lucky, this long winter's nap might be long enough to miss Christmas entirely.

#

Clank. Clunk. Scraaaaaaape.

Usze scowled. The base was on essential-personnel-only for the holidays, so who was the idiot dragging chains right outside his window?

Usze opened one eye.

Not right outside his window. Right beside his _bed_.

A Sangheili, bloated and deformed by Flood spores, opened its eyelids and fixed him with its baleful gaze. The creature staggered under the weight of countless chains. Manacles encircled its wrists, energy cords looped its waist, a huge iron ball was attached to its left ankle. The Sangheili's features were distorted by suffering and the ravages of the Parasite, but even so, Usze recognized it: his old comrade-in-arms, Khuf 'Torufee.

Usze stared at Khuf and Khuf stared at Usze and finally, Usze spoke.

"You're dead," Usze informed Khuf.

Khuf did not seem surprised by this news. "I have orders, 'Taham. I am to inform you that this night, you will be visited by three spirits."

"Three…" Usze blinked, studied Khuf's attire, and then his eyes narrowed. "Wait. Nitro made me watch this stupid movie last night. You're dead, and I'm dreaming."

"You do not wish to meet my fate," Khuf wheezed.

"Which is why we destroyed the Parasite. Thanks, Khuf."

"To live a life of loneliness in the chains of your duty. But it is not too late for you. The Spirits will show you the way…"

Usze felt his impatience growing. Sleep—was it so much to ask? "And then my heart grows two sizes and I stop being a Grinch, carve the roast beast, the end."

"That's a different movie," Khuf objected.

"Which is how I know this is a dream," Usze retorted smugly, "because you never watched Human movies. So I am going to wake up now, and you are going to fade away into nothing." He began forcing his eyes to open.

Khuf looked hurt, and even though this _was _a dream, Usze felt a little guilty. Khuf 'Torufee had been the closest thing to a friend he'd had back in his conceited, obnoxious, perfect-Ascetic-warrior days, and Usze had never shown much gratitude in return.

"I, er, I hope you're resting peacefully," Usze said, feeling awkward.

Khuf shrugged. "Everything's a Great Journey, Usze," he said, and just as Usze was about to ask Khuf what he meant, he found himself staring at his own ceiling.

Usze got up, had a drink of water, vowed not to watch any more dumb holiday movies—no matter how much Nitro nagged him—and went back to bed.

#

Usze hadn't been sleeping very long when an authoritative voice said, "'Taham, get up."

Usze cracked open one eye. When he saw the imposing figure in white armour standing at the foot of his bed, he sat bolt upright. "Commander 'Vadum?"

Rtas 'Vadum glanced down at him. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," he said.

Usze's jaws dropped. "Sir?"

"Come," Rtas said, and held out his hand.

Usze was a good Sangheili, and like all good Sangheili, he obeyed orders, no matter how stupid they were. Usze's fingers closed around Rtas' wrist…

Usze felt suddenly dizzied as the landscape around him changed. It was as though he'd stepped through an invisible teleporter and suddenly found himself…where?

_Sanghelios._

"We're on the homeworld. Where?" Usze asked Rtas, still trying to figure out how they'd travelled so quickly. By the Spirits! Had someone invented a device that could teleport through Slipspace?

"Tell me what you see," Rtas said in reply.

"I see a war." Usze surveyed the battlefield. "Sangheili against Sangheili." On one side, dressed in crude armour and hides, howled a force that looked like Teerak raiders. On the other side, in ornately tooled battle suits, stood the army of the nation-state of…

"Taham militia?" Usze demanded, and then, much to his shock, he saw a young Sangheili in the midst of them, a youth of perhaps sixteen years. His hide was darker than his comrades' skins thanks to his islander mother, and he fought with a skill and ferocity that belied his age…abandoning himself to the primal thrill of battle, knowing for the first time what it was to feel desire, a thirst for the mastery he could find by defeating his foes.

"That's me!" Usze exclaimed.

"Yes. Today, you defend your hometown. Light years away, the humans celebrate Christmas."

Rtas squeezed Usze's hand and the scene changed again. Usze shook his head, stupefied, as before him he saw himself being presented with his first energy sword. He was oblivious to his family in the front row of the assembly; his eyes were only for the weapon he had won.

"Let me guess," Usze said dryly. "Christmas again."

Rtas nodded. Another squeeze. Another blur, and Usze saw himself limping in from a battle to collapse on his cot and pass out from exhaustion. In the hallways, other Sangheili were celebrating a triumph, but Usze rested in solitude.

"And now?"

"I see me asleep, on my bunk. Which, if you must know, is somewhere I'd really like to be right now. Sleeping."

"Would you?" Rtas replied mildly. "All alone, on a small cot, just one more soldier on the Arbiter's honour guard?"

Usze blinked, startled. "I don't like honour guard work, and though I approve of the Arbiter far more than the Prophets, I'd rather be somewhere I could make a real difference." He looked down at his leg and grimaced. "With this injury I really would be just a ceremonial guard."

"With the Ascetics, then?"

Usze stared at him. "Those narrow minded fools would lead us into ruin. No."

"But that is the pattern set by your past. A solitary soldier, admired by many but known by none, personally unmoved by anything around him, and failing to matter to anyone else."

Usze gulped.

"Be it Christmas or any other day, you were alone, and had you fallen in battle there would have been many who lamented the loss of a skilled blade but few to grieve for a man named Usze 'Taham."

"That's not how it is now," Usze protested. "I live with Nitro. I'm the Sangheili Ambassador to Earth. I work with the Humans. I have a Marine honour guard. Nitro's father calls me his son too, for Forerunners' sakes. I'm not alone!"

Rtas turned to him and tilted his head. "Then why do you insist on pushing your loved ones away?"

Usze spluttered, unable to think of anything to say. He closed his eyes to organize his thoughts, and when he opened them, Rtas was gone, and he was alone in his room on the base.

#

Usze sat upright in bed, rattled by the strange dream. It was a fantasy, a hallucination, something wholly lacking in substance—so why were Rtas' words still haunting him?

_Why do you insist on pushing your loved ones away?_

A rapping came at his door.

"What?" Usze growled, cranky from lack of sleep.

The door opened. Usze saw N'tho's father, Piro 'Kipaz, looking back at him.

He remembered The-Ghost-Of-Christmas-Rtas' words and tried to be civil. "Piro. What would you like?"

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," Piro said.

"Like hell you are," Usze snapped, promptly dropping his shoulder, falling back into bed, and rolling over to face the other way.

Usze counted to ten, turned onto his back, and opened one eye. Piro was still standing over him.

Usze felt disoriented, unsure whether he was still asleep and dreaming or if Piro was playing a trick on him. "Is this a joke?" he asked, bewildered.

"I want to show you some things," the elderly Sangheili warrior said.

Well…

Piro was a loyal soldier and an honourable person. It really wouldn't hurt Usze to try to be a bit more considerate of his family and friends. Usze shrugged, took Piro's hand, and got up.

This time there was no impossible teleportation. Usze began to feel a little more grounded in reality, particularly as everything he saw looked pretty much the same as when he'd gone to bed: the colourful decorations around the base, the tree glowing in the corner, Ricky Reindeer grinning stupidly in the middle of the lounge's largest table.

"What's that smell?" Usze asked.

"The Marines are cooking Christmas dinner. It should be ready in a few hours."

"What happened to the chefs?"

"They were given the holiday off. Perez, Mbeki, Cyr and their families are staying on base, so they volunteered to cook for us instead."

"That's nice." Whatever was cooking smelled great, with the complex fragrance of several types of meat. Usze could really go for another Thanksgiving-style feast.

"This way," Piro said, and took them outside.

Curious, Usze followed Piro into the garage. "Be quiet," Piro cautioned as he pointed towards the far wall. N'tho was sitting in the back of a Warthog, brandishing scissors and colourful paper.

"What's he doing?" Usze inquired.

"Wrapping your Christmas present."

Usze snorted. He still had a lot of misgivings about N'tho's willingness to adopt Human traditions. "If it's another damned Ricky Reindeer doll…"

He hesitated, took a step towards the rack on the wall and grabbed a pair of night-vision binoculars. He zoomed them in on N'tho and the item in front of him. Actually, several items—a stack of books, the top one entitled _Sun-Tzu's Art of War_…

Usze lowered the binoculars and stepped back.

He'd been intending to read the human military classics for some time. He'd thought Nitro had been distracted by video games or Ancestors only knew what—he knew N'tho wasn't nearly as interested in philosophy as he was—but he'd never once guessed that N'tho had been listening closely enough as to keep track of the books he wanted.

"Christmas presents are supposed to be surprises, right?" he asked Piro.

The older Sangheili nodded.

"Then we'd best leave before I completely spoil mine."

Piro half-smiled and led the way out of the garage.

Usze's satisfaction at their return to the barracks area was short-lived when Piro took a corridor that lead away from the Sangheili quarters. Frustrated, Usze tagged along behind him past the Marines' quarters: Sanchez and family, Mbeki, Cyr… With every step, a snoring noise grew in volume, until Usze found himself gritting his teeth. "Who's making that infernal racket?" he asked at last.

"Private Doyle," Piro replied, stopping outside the Marine's door.

"Lazy bastard."

"He's drunk."

"Alcoholic bastard."

Piro's eyes were huge and sad as he turned to Usze. "Doyle had a wife and a baby girl. He lost them on Christmas Day when we glassed Eulenia."

Usze's mandibles twitched.

"So if he drinks too much on Christmas, perhaps you should not be so quick to condemn."

Usze swallowed. "But…I mean…nothing can give back what he lost, but he's still young and a decently accomplished soldier. Shouldn't he be trying to meet someone else, instead of hastening himself to an early grave?"

"He has forgotten how to reach out to others," Piro said. "Something which I believe you are familiar with yourself."

"Now you're starting to sound like Rtas."

Piro blinked. "This is the present—the moment when things can be changed. If Private Doyle's course remains unchecked, than in fifteen years, I see an empty room, and an unclaimed flag at the base of a soldier's grave."

With every word, Usze became more and more certain that he was still dreaming. "You're doing it wrong. Tiny Tim was cuter than Private Doyle could ever be," he said sarcastically, and at the last word, The Ghost Of Christmas Piro dissolved into tiny flecks of rainbow-coloured lights that glimmered and went out, leaving Usze once again staring at his ceiling.

#

Usze growled to himself. He was going to have to put up with an unprecedented amount of stupidity tonight, he just knew it, and he couldn't even get some sleep to improve his mood. If he could have even a few moments of rest…

Someone knocked on his door.

Snarling, Usze opened the door and looked into the face of the Arbiter.

Usze knew damned well the Arbiter was on Sanghelios. "Oh, no," Usze said, "I am _not_ doing this any longer." He slammed the door in the face of the Ghost of Christmas Future and went back to bed.

#

"Uzi. Uzi, wake up."

Usze's smugness at having bested the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come was short-lived. Nitro sounded like he'd consumed a whole tin of Christmas candy and chased it down with ten cans of cola.

"Uzeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….."

Then the shaking began.

"Fine!" Usze growled, throwing back the covers and glaring up at Nitro's face. "I'm awake! What the hell do you want?"

N'tho grabbed his hand and tugged on it. "C'mon!"

Usze sighed. Time to face the immense pain in the rear that was Christmas on a human base. He felt exhausted, and crabby, and downright mean.

…And really, that wasn't fair to Nitro. Ghost of Christmas Rtas had been right—if it wasn't for N'tho, Usze would still be all alone. And if Ghost of Christmas Piro had been correct too, then N'tho had gone out of his way to be nice to Usze. Usze had gotten N'tho…a gift card to GameStart. He hadn't even bothered learning the names of the video games that N'tho wanted to play.

He felt guilty. He really hadn't been trying to reach out, or even to accept those who reached out to him. He'd been focusing on hating everything he found strange, instead of being grateful for the blessings in his life.

"Sorry, N'tho," Usze apologized, "but I'm in a bad mood and I feel awful. Your stup…I mean, I had nightmares from all the holiday films we've watched. Khuf 'Torufee came back from the dead to tell me I was going to get haunted like in _A Christmas Carol_. Rtas was the Ghost of Christmas Past and Piro was the Ghost of Christmas Present. Then I opened the door and there was the Arbiter come to tell me that in fifteen years I'd drop dead of being a nasty bastard and everybody was going to be glad I was dead, at which point I finally realized I was dreaming and shut the door in his face, and had _just_ managed to achieve some restful sleep when you came along. So if I've been irritable, I apologize, but I'll try my best to…why are we in the cemetery?"

How had they even gotten to the cemetery?

Usze narrowed his eyes. "There had better not be a tombstone here with my name on it, Nitro."

Nitro shook his head, planted his butt on the top of a nearby headstone, and sat there, legs dangling down. Wordlessly, he lifted his arm and pointed with a single outstretched talon.

A weathered Sangheili stood there, wrapped in arctic gear and a scarf that did nothing against the cold, for the way he shivered. For a moment, Usze thought it was Piro. Then he caught a better glance at the cane the Sangheili leaned on, or the hollow eyes that were still leaking tears.

It was like looking into a mirror and a nightmare all at once. An Usze fifteen years older in body and broken in spirit stared hollowly back at him.

The connection between them was finally broken when a female voice yelled, "Go on, get out of here!" Both Uszes turned to see Piro's wife, Kya, approaching with three of the Marines. "You are no longer welcome here!"

Future-Usze bowed his head and staggered away.

The group stopped in front of the stone, apparently oblivious to Usze and N'tho.

"Do you think you were a little too hard on him?" Mbeki said to Kya.

The sharp-tongued Sangheili woman shook her head. "He had no right to treat him that way. No right to be so cruel." She tried to change the subject. "How is the new ambassador working out?"

"Piro's with him right now," Sergeant Perez said, "but it's gonna be difficult. He just ain't what Usze was. I think a lot of humans are going to be offended by his behaviour."

Usze snorted, unheard by the group. "It seems they made you the ambassador, N'tho," he huffed, hoping a little sardonic humour would hold the chills creeping up and down his spine at bay. "Poor Piro, to have to teach you table manners for state banquets."

"He's been gone a whole year," Cyr said slowly. "I can't believe it."

His attempt at humour failed utterly. He shivered; this conversation was making him very uncomfortable. "N'tho. Let's go."

'Sraom shook his head.

Mbeki wouldn't leave it alone. "Doyle was driving drunk when the Warthogs collided."

"Nitro," Usze hissed. "Get off Doyle's tombstone. It's rude."

Nitro's huge eyes shone as he wordlessly slid to his feet and stepped one pace to the left.

Kya retorted, "And he was too upset to think straight, let alone to drive safely. Can you believe it, after neglecting him for so long, after he finally found the courage to say something, Usze tells him to get out?"

Usze stared at the tombstone.

N'THO 'SRAOM

_Sangheili Ambassador to Earth_

_ May his memory be hallowed in the land he loved._

Usze blinked. Blinked again. The tombstone did not change.

_Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no…._

Did N'tho truly not know that he didn't mean half the sardonic things he said? Did the others really only put up with him for N'tho's sake? Was he that miserable to be around?

And was this his inevitable future…to be so self-centered, so casually cruel, and so downright miserable as to alienate the one person who cared for him, and spend the rest of his life alone and unloved?

"Take me back," Usze pleaded, grabbing the Ghost of Christmas N'tho's hand. "Take me back and let me fix this. Let me set things right. Please. It's the future, it hasn't happened yet…I still have _time…"_

Usze stared at the blinking numbers on the clock. Three pm. He still had time…still had time…

_Clock_.

Usze sat bolt upright in bed again.

It was Christmas Eve. He was back in his bed. It was mid-afternoon.

He was back. He still had time.

#

Usze bolted out the door and stared wide-eyed into the lounge. N'tho, very much alive, was playing video games with Sergeant Perez's kids. Private Doyle was sneaking out the back with a bottle of whiskey.

_Oh, no you don't._

Usze bounded across the room and grabbed Doyle's arm. "I need your help." He swiftly liberated the whiskey from the Marine's grip, then took a precautionary sniff. No, he couldn't smell any alcohol on Doyle's breath.

_I still have time…_

"I have to go shopping," Usze confessed. "I don't even begin to know what to get for everyone…"

"…and ye's put it off until three hours before dinner on Christmas Eve," the Marine finished for him.

Usze nodded.

Doyle burst out laughing. "Ye's the most sorry looking Sangheili son of a bitch I'se ever seen."

Usze swallowed his pride and nodded again.

"Well, if I'se honest with ye, I used to be after doin' the same thing and I still remembers how to do the last minute Christmas run, so if ye's got the money, I'se got the plan." The human seemed to take great delight in Usze's misery. Ordinarily, Usze would have growled and told Doyle to get lost; today, Usze was willing to let the man have whatever it took to distract him from the whiskey.

On their way through the garage, Usze saw the Arbiter standing in the corner, deep in conversation with N'tho and Sergeant Perez.

…_The Arbiter_?

If that business with the Arbiter knocking at his door had not been part of his dream, then…

Usze turned to Doyle. "We have to find something particularly nice for the Arbiter," he said, a quaver in his voice.

Doyle blinked. "Don't look at me."

#

Usze had expected Doyle to tell him to go to hell eventually, but it seemed that the human was grateful for the distraction. Doyle had even told him a few things about his daughter as they picked out toys for Piro and Kya's young and the Marines' children.

Mbeki and Cyr would each receive a basket of overpriced, highly fragranced soaps and lotions—female humans liked that kind of thing, Doyle assured him, and on impulse he'd bought another for Kya. Piro and Sergeant Perez would be getting mugs stuffed full of hot drink mixes. Most mercifully of all, the mall provided a service that wrapped all the presents up on Usze's behalf, complete with colourful paper and little bows.

Then Usze had taken them to GameStart, where he'd picked out a better gift for N'tho. Finally, he'd pretended to be hungry, and when Doyle was off picking up food, he made a call to a number on the base.

They'd made it back to the base just in time to hit the regimental shop, where Usze dropped a considerable portion of cash on a human ceremonial sword for the Arbiter. Usze asked Doyle to carry it to the Warthog while he slipped into the back of the store and met the person he'd phoned. After a brief exchange, Usze slid into the Warthog, carrying a cardboard container with holes in it.

"What's that?" Doyle asked.

"Merry Christmas, Private Doyle," Usze replied, handing over the container.

Puzzled, Doyle opened the lid. A mewling kitten looked up at him.

"I don't want a pet!" Doyle protested.

Usze shrugged. "Then give her back."

Contrary, Doyle clutched the box to his chest. "What makes you think I want a pet?"

"Well, someone had better want her," Usze replied patiently. "The base is overrun with strays, so they were going to have her destroyed."

"Like hell they will!" Doyle growled. "Kitten didn't do nothin' wrong." He looked down into the box. "Been enough death in the war."

"I suppose Nitro could look after her," Usze mused, "but she seems nervous around me…perhaps it's the smell of large predator…"

"Perhaps it's 'cause you're scary alien bastards," Doyle retorted, but there was no force in his words. "You probably eat kittens. I ain't gonna do that to her."

"So you'll keep her?"

"Well…unless she finds someone better to live with."

"Good enough," Usze replied. "Merry Christmas."

#

Later that night, after the dinner had been eaten and the presents opened, after the Marines had said their goodnights and Piro and Kya had hustled their young off to bed, Usze and N'tho remained in the lounge, on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. Usze watched N'tho grin at the glittering lights that left green and gold reflections in his armour.

This hadn't been so bad.

"N'tho."

"Yeah?"

"I, ah, I got something else for us." Usze could not quite overcome the urge to fidget as he pulled one last gift out from under the couch.

"You mean more'n the gift card to GameStart?"

"Well, this one is…well, it's mostly for you, but it's also partly for me and…oh, just go ahead and open it."

Usze had to smile as N'tho tore into the box with the same glee as the little ones. "It's…. what, a new controller?"

Usze nodded. "I got you the limited edition _SpaceCop _controller in the hope that…in the hope that you'd give me your old one, and maybe you could teach me to play some of the two-player games and we could play together sometime."

Nitro blinked. "You'd play _SpaceCop_ with me?"

Usze nodded. "I'm probably going to slurp…"

"Suck."

"Yes. I'm probably going to _suck_, but if you don't mind…"

Nitro laughed. "You'll learn." And Usze could tell it was the prospect of teaching him to play, not the new controller itself, that was making the other Sangheili smile. "Merry Christmas, Usze."

What the hell.

"Merry Christmas, N'tho."


End file.
